


A Beacon Hills Halloween

by Zoa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Very fluffy, i know it's late but better late than never right?, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoa/pseuds/Zoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FLUFFY HALLOWEEN STEREK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beacon Hills Halloween

“STILES! HURRY UP!” Derek yelled up the stairs of his loft, where his boyfriend was apparently still adjusting his costume. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO THIS STUPID THING not that I’d mind if we didn’t go at all...” Derek muttered.

A Halloween party at Lydia’s house was the last thing he wanted to do on Halloween night. All those silly people dressed up in equally ridiculous costumes and crowding the streets of Beacon Hills annoyed him to no end, and now he would have to suffer (because he had promised Stiles he would) through a cramped, hot, loud house of them. The only thing that made the night remotely bearable was that Stiles had said Derek didn’t have to wear a costume. That, besides Stiles’ strange ability to get Derek to do whatever he wanted, was why Derek was suffering through this night.

“I’M COMING. GOSH. HOLD YOUR HORSES.” Stiles shouted back down. “I have to pack this crap up for Scott!” He came stumbling down the stairs as he spoke, holding a duffel bag – presumably filled with Scott’s costume – and dressed as... Derek did a double take.

“Han Solo?” Derek’s mouth turned up slightly in a smirk. “Interesting.” It was actually not a bad costume. Stiles was wearing a full replica of Han Solo’s mercenary outfit, complete with a blaster (Derek shuddered inside to consider how much it must have cost). Stiles grinned and did a turn, flipping the blaster around on his forefinger before sticking it into the holster on his hip. It was a costume Derek wouldn’t mind Stiles wearing more often...

“You like?”                                

 “Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Derek shrugged, determined not to show how much he liked it. “Are you finally ready?” He was already dressed in jeans and a white tee-shirt, and had started to pull on his black leather jacket. It was brisk that night. “And what’s Scott’s costume doing here anyway?”

Stiles looked at the duffel bag. “Oh, he forgot to pick it up so I had to on the way over here.” He started for the door. “Let’s go! Time’s a-wastin’!”

Derek watched him go (blatantly enjoying the view as Stiles walked away. Stiles looked pretty good in those blue trousers) and shook his head. “I’m coming.”

 

* * *

 

The party was, as Derek had thought it would be, loud and boring. How any of the rest of the pack was enjoying themselves was beyond the older wolf’s comprehension. He watched as Stiles danced like a dork with Malia, Scott, and Kira and wondered at how he managed to keep his hat on. Seriously, it was ridiculous how that thing could still stay on, even though Stiles kept tripping over everyone. Derek chuckled inwardly, allowing himself to at least have that much fun. Stiles was far too uncoordinated for this sort of activity.

“Don’t feel like dancing?” Lydia suddenly popped up beside Derek, a half-empty plastic cup in her hand. She was watching the dance floor as well (which was actually her family’s living room dismantled) with a frown on her face. “Me neither. I use to like throwing parties. Not so much anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I think I’ve just grown out of it,” she sighed and straightened up. “Oh well. Still have to play hostess. Try not to not enjoy yourself too much.” She smiled and walked off, and Derek heard her yell at a couple of boys who were about to play beer-pong with champagne glasses. He sighed and went back to watching Stiles and the others dance. If he could just stay in that corner all night he would be fine.

After a few minutes, though, he was joined by Stiles, who collapsed on a chair beside where Derek was standing, panting as though he’d just run a marathon. “I gotta tell ya,” he gasped, reaching for the drink Derek was holding and taking a long draught before realizing it was vodka and almost spitting it up. “Why’d you let me have that?” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the sudden burn of the alcohol. “I thought it was water!”

“Maybe next time you should ask before taking other people’s things,” Derek retorted grumpily.

“Maybe next time you should join me on the dance floor,” Stiles said. “How come you never dance, anyway? Do you not know how?”

Derek sighed. “I know how to dance, Stiles. I choose not to. Because it’s stupid. This party is grating on me. Can we go home now?” he implored, trying very hard not to sound as if he were begging. Stiles raised his eyebrows, apparently catching the desperate tone in Derek’s voice anyway.

“But you’re not even trying! Come on,” he grabbed Derek’s shoulder and pulled him in the fray of moving bodies and loud music. “Just try it!” he shouted, starting up his giraffe-like movements again as Derek simply stood there. After a moment Stiles stopped and looked at his impossibly stoic boyfriend in frustration. “You have to try.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“Really?” Stiles smiled slyly. “Don’t lie to Han Solo.”

Derek’s pale face went red and he traipsed off the dance floor. “I’m done.”

Stiles hurried after him, and followed him all the way outside, where it was blessedly quiet. Derek stopped at the edge of Lydia’s driveway, which was packed with cars, and breathed in deeply. Stiles stopped beside him and gasped out an apology. Derek sighed and turned to him.

“It’s alright. You know I just get edgy at social gatherings.” He said, grimacing as he said the words, as if they were just as bad as being back in the party.

“Yeah, I know. And I’m sorry for pushing you to go to this thing,” Stiles said, smiling ruefully.

“Can we go home now?” Derek asked hopefully.

Stiles groaned. “But it’s Halloween!”

Derek tilted his head to the side and studied Stiles for a moment. “What?” Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He narrowed his eyes as Derek took a step forward, closing the small gap between them; Stiles found himself backed against a SUV.

“We can celebrate Halloween at home,” Derek said softly, reaching out and tugging gently on Stiles’ vest, straightening the wrinkles out.

“But I want to go back to the party,” Stiles said stubbornly.

“I can make it worth your while to leave,” Derek said, in a matter of fact way, and leaned just a little closer.

“It’s a party, Derek. You know how much I love parties.”

Derek laughed outright. “You do not!”

“Just play along, damn it!”

“I’m not ‘playing along’ to anything less than the truth.”

“That’s the truth!”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You only _love_ parties when they involve video game marathons.”

“Uh...” Stiles glanced down and away. “Well, you’re not wrong.” When he looked back up Derek was only an inch away from his face. Stiles was now properly pinned between the car and Derek’s body, and he couldn’t be happier. “But you’re only half right.”

“How so?” Derek narrowed his eyes.

“I also love parties with Dungeons & Dragons.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Derek obliged by none-too-gently closing what little gap there was between them and kissing Stiles the way he’d wanted to all night. Nothing held back. Of course Stiles responded in kind. When they broke apart for breath, Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles’.

“Can we go home now?” Stiles asked eagerly.

“Finally!”


End file.
